Proteus
by Agent.Q.003
Summary: Captain James Hawkins is sent on a wild-goose chase searching for the mythical "Atlantis" of all civilizations, Proteus. According to myth, Captain Flint utilized the technology found in the planet's ruins in order to steal the greatest amount of treasure the galaxy has ever known. There's nothing Jim won't do to get his ship back, including finding the imaginary planet.
1. Chapter 1

Jim had been woken up a number of startling ways in his life, however, he could say with certainty that he had never been given such a rude awakening before. A hand clamped over his mouth, preventing the scream he otherwise would have let out. His eyes flew open and he had to hold the blankets in a vice grip to prevent himself from acting on his instincts to harm the source of such surprise.

That blonde woman from the other night… what was her name? Molly? Marie? Whatever, it definitely started with an M. She kneeled above him, covering his mouth with her hand. "Shhh," she warned, holding a finger to her lips. Her blonde hair fell from behind her shoulder into her face. "You need to go."

The sunlight streamed in through the curtains and hurt his eyes. He could feel the hangover rising in his bones. Today was not going to be a good day.

She pulled her hand slowly from his mouth. "Why?" he whispered.

"My husband is home."

"What?!" he asked, probably a little too loudly. He jolted upright, causing her to fall off of him and topple over onto the floor. She huffed and glanced toward the door. She certainly hadn't mentioned a husband last night.

He hadn't signed on for an angry husband.

He threw on his shirt in a blur and pulled his boots onto his feet. Luckily he hadn't been wearing his uniform and the millions of different layers it entailed. They were docking on world for just a few nights before heading out again.

M shrugged on a robe and saw him out the double French doors and onto the balcony. "You should be able to sneak out the back. Climb down the trellis and through the neighbor's back yard. And for God's sake be quiet."

Jim groaned and ran his fingers through his hair, backing out into the wretched sunlight. "Have you done this before?"

She only smirked before shutting the doors in his face.

He leaned over the railing. It was a long way down, and he definitely didn't feel up to climbing down all of them. Maybe this was God's way of telling him to find a nice girl and settle down, not that that would ever actually happen.

The thorns on the trellis bit into his hands. They were probably bleeding. He could only hope the woman's husbandwouldn't spot the blood stains until he was long gone. He jerked away after one particularly bad stab and stuck his finger in his mouth, wiping the mixture of blood and spit off onto his pants. He could hear her talking inside and the low rumble of a man's voice, but couldn't make out any words. He crouched as close to the wall as he could, in case he decided to take a look out onto his fairly expansive yard.

He suspected his military training probably hadn't been intended for these purposes, but it was coming out quite handy. Amelia, his aunt of sorts who had introduced him to the profession, would not be proud.

He made his way climbing down, until a part of the trellis cracked. His stomach sank. In slow motion, the crack spread until he lost his hand-hold. Then a foot. Then both feet fell out from underneath him. Finally, the crack spread entirely to the top of the trellis and it came toppling over with a loud bang, falling on top of him.

He fell to the ground, knocking the wind out of him, and filling his mouth with thorny, painful, plant. His tongue was bleeding and he saw stars. For a second he feared he might throw up, but evidently the adrenaline had eliminated his nausea and hangover entirely.

A man shouted inside, and he could hear M try to stop him before the balcony doors burst open. Jim struggled to push the trellis off from on top of him, but it was too massive and heavy. He was trapped. Heavy footsteps slowly strode the balcony before a familiar, uniformed Navy officer leaned over.

He was an older gentleman, with a low, bushy brow and a mass of salt-and-pepper colored hair. His expression was stern, and his face slowly become increasingly red.

"Captain Hawkins," the man growled.

Jim swallowed, his heart thrumming in his chest. "A-Admiral Brandt," he stuttered. He tried to salute, but his arms were pinned down. It probably wasn't appropriate for the situation, anyway. He had just slept with the man's wife, after all.

* * *

It was moments like these when Jim's fingers absolutely ached for his solar surfer, which he just now remembered he hadn't touched in months. It was bright outside with just enough cloud cover and a steady breeze; perfect for flying. He hoped it still ran alright. He really shouldn't have neglected it. He would have to clear out all the dust before it was operational again.

A solar surfer was just about the only thing he would end up flying if this hearing went as he expected, probably for the rest of his life.

"Er… Jim? What are you doing?"

Jim glanced up at his friend and snapped back from his daydreams of flying, realizing that he was holding his knife in a death grip. "I don't know, Al. I'm just distracted, I guess."

Al shrugged and shoved a large section of pancake in his mouth. "You nervous?" he asked with a full mouth.

Jim _had_ unknowingly slept with his Admiral's wife and had been caught sneaking out the morning after, so, yes. Nervous was a bit of an understatement. He hunched over his mug of coffee and grunted. He'd gotten a notice about a week ago to come to Lasalle, the planet where the navy base and headquarters were located, to meet with the naval disciplinary committee about what happened. He'd put the notice under the pile of books he'd been meaning to read on his nightstand, hoping that it would go away, but the paper remained and here he was.

"I don't see why." Al sighed. "You're the youngest captain the Navy's ever had. You're from one of the poorest planets in the interstellar alliance. You're the press' poster child. It's not like they can kick you out."

Jim knew his friend hadn't meant anything insulting by the statement. Al's father was the Queen's cousin. He was a royal, everyone was poor compared to him. Plus, he was notoriously blunt and had very limited knowledge as to what being "poor" actually entailed. He hadn't been the one to have to work twelve hour shifts just to help his mother put food on the table.

He was a nice guy, though. With his pedigree, he could have risen in the ranks faster than anyone. However, he had found himself content acting as Jim's First Mate. Al had never been one to take responsibility for himself; he was five years Jim's senior and still lower in rank.

Part of Jim always thought his issues with responsibilities stemmed from the fact that he had no cousins. He would be king one day, unless the interstellar alliance decided to get rid of the monarchy all together. It was possible. Parliament was gaining power, and no one wanted a wayward naval officer on the throne.

"They can take away my ship and my crew."

"I don't know if they'd risk making me Captain. Transferring you would be a poorly thought out decision if I've ever heard one."

Jim wished he had such confidence. "I don't know."

"You weren't doing anything that the dear Admiral himself didn't used to do when he was your rank," Al pointed out. "It's not like you killed anyone. It's just personal, they'll see that."

* * *

"Well," Al said at last, clearing his throat, "you may not have your ship, but at least they didn't demote you. And you still have me."

Jim heaved a heavy sigh and slumped down in his chair by the bar. He ran his hand down his face, feeling the way his skin pulled as he did so. The only reason why Al was assigned to him was because he, being the idiot that he was, had burst into the hearing and demanded that they listen to stories about every instance in which Jim had displayed good moral fiber. Most of them, truth be told, were instances in which he had displayed a gross neglect for the laws and, by luck alone, had managed to pull everyone on his crew out alive. The naval disciplinary committee hadn't taken too kindly to the young royal's demands, and had decided to punish him as well. They had intended on separating the two but, as it turns out, all of the other captains refused to work with Al, and not a single first mate was willing to work under Jim.

He'd headed straight to the bar and had been there for hours—the sun was starting to come up, and he could feel the stubble on his cheeks. He never wanted Al to come, even telling him repeatedly to "leave me the hell alone you dumb son of a bitch", but Al could not be deterred in the least. "Yeah," he muttered, his lips pressed against the glass as he took another sip. "Thank god for that."

"Lighten up. It's not like this assignment is going to last forever."

"Except that it will." Jim groaned and pulled the map from his back pocket and threw it down onto the cut up, sticky table in front of him. It was wearing down from where he'd folded and unfolded it repeatedly for hours. "Here's the ground we've covered. This is all of known space," he explained, drawing a circle of a small area with his finger. "We've been running exploratory missions for the past _four years_. They want us to find _one _planet in all of space. A planet that doesn't exist. It's a legend."

"You've done it before."

Treasure Planet. Jim shook his head. "That's different. We had a map. Now they're sending us out to find…" he paused as he tried to figure out a way to explain it. "_Proteus_. It's a legend within a legend. Captain Flint had Treasure Planet and all this technology that was ahead of his time. It still is; even the best scientists in the galaxy don't know how that portal worked. By their estimates, it shouldn't have. Nutjobs have held onto this idea of a lost civilization for centuries—Atlantis, for example. Now they've jumped all over this. They think this technology had to come from somewhere, some lost planet called Proteus, I don't know. They don't think he was smart enough to make it himself."

Al frowned. The committee hadn't explained it in such words when they had detailed the mission out to them. "Like I said, you've done it before. Treasure Planet was a legend until _you _found the map."

Jim stared into the map and only saw the vastness of space. They were nothing but a blip, how were they supposed to find one planet in an entire universe? Search every one? He'd been staring at the map for the past twelve hours and the small ring of space they called _known _only seemed to grow smaller and smaller.

They'd effectively ended his career by sending him on a wild goose chase. "We'll never find it, Al. It's not real."

"Listen," his friend groaned, staring him straight in the face with raised eyebrows. "I'm going to help us, but you have to stop moping, okay?"

Jim frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Al explained, "while _you _were on your fourth pint and wallowing in despair, _I _made a few phone calls. God, you're so lucky you have me."

Jim said nothing, but crossed his arms in front of his chest. Al had a lot of heart, but things like making plans and leadership just didn't come to him easily. They'd once been outnumbered by hostiles, surrounded on all sides, and his solution had been to "send over what's left of the good wine, play nice, and say the ship was on autopilot because I'm all out of ideas." Needless to say they did not, in fact, go with his plan.

Anticipating what he was thinking, Al sighed. "Now, I know I've had a few bad ideas in the past, but this one is different. Come on, let's go meet the new crew."

Jim, who had just been taking a large gulp of his beer, involuntarily spat some of it out onto his First Mate in a fine mist. He pursed his lips and forced himself to swallow the rest. It hurt going down. "What?!"

"No time like the present," Al said with a shrug.

"I'm still drunk! I haven't showered, slept… shaved!"

Looking at his watch, Al grunted. "Well, you're already late so I don't see why you can't go pretty yourself up. I told them to meet us at the dock half an hour ago."

Jim stood and tucked his shirt in, arranged his hair, and scraped the plaque buildup off his teeth with his finger. "No, no. They should know what they're dealing with. I'm a degenerate, I might as well look like one."

Al laughed and shoved him, which caused him to fall over a bit farther than he would have had he been totally sober. "That's the spirit. Let's go."

The closer they got to the docks, the more dread built up in the pit of his stomach. The dread, in combination with the sobering effect of the cold morning air, weighed him down. Al was walking in front of him, chipper as ever, and had been forced to stop more than twice to allow him to catch up.

Bile rose in his throat, and he imagined the look on his mother's face. He stopped.

"I can't believe I did that."

Al swung around and stopped. "Did what?"

"I'm an idiot, Al. They gave me the fastest ship in the fleet and I lost it in less than a year. I haven't even told my mother yet, she'll probably end up hearing it from Amelia."

"Oh," Al said with a grimace, "that hag-"

"She's a nice lady!" Jim interjected. He looked down at his feet, and wanted very much to just sit down in the middle of the road and wallow there forever. However, if he did that, he would probably be arrested and demoted yet again for being intoxicated in public. "I just… I thought I changed. I tried to, at least."

Al's lip curled. "Are you really going to sit here and feel sorry for yourself? _Really_? I expected more."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Either Admiral Brandt is punishing you because he can't get it up, for which you should want to both literally and figuratively kick his ass because that's an abuse of power, or you're the badass genius delinquent I've been hearing everyone complain about for years, for which you should also probably want to both literally and figuratively kick his ass. But, for like, fun because you're cool and don't really care about what other people think about your life choices."

Jim frowned. "Was that supposed to be motivational? I think I'm more confused than motivated. How do you figuratively kick someone's ass?"

Al groaned dramatically. "That's what I've been trying to tell you—you find this stupid make believe planet and wipe it in his face. Why do you think I've been trying to get you to meet the crew I picked out?"

"I think you're missing the part where Proteus doesn't exist."

"Then find something passable," Al said, grabbing Jim's hand and pulling him along. "Let's go. It's just around the corner."

Jim sighed and followed him down to the docks where the ship was waiting for them. From off in the distance it didn't look _too _bad structurally, although it was definitely the oldest model the navy was in possession of. There was no way it wasn't. Even from this far away, he could point out about four or five upgrades that would have once been necessary in order to even force him aboard. Now he didn't have a choice. He was captaining this junk heap. The rising sun enveloped it in a soft orange glow, wrapping gently around the corners just enough to make the nameplate shine—_The Citadel_. He'd never heard of such a ship before. For one with such a grand name, it was completely and totally unremarkable.

Standing in front of the ship was a line of young naval officers. They looked like new recruits, though he knew that there was no way that they would condemn teenagers to this stupid mission. No, they had to be new graduates of the academy. No other captain wanted them aboard their ship, so the committee assigned them to Jim. They were most likely a bunch of degenerates themselves, not that he was much better. The committee had never particularly liked his attitude, but they'd given him a good, proper ship regardless because he was good at what he did. These boys, on the other hand, were rebels with nothing to back it up. Their skills would never be enough to outweigh their bad attitude.

Jim scratched at his stubble, and wondered briefly why Al would ever be excited to show him such a crew.

"This is Johnson, Adams, Carting, Davis…" Al introduced each of them by name as he went down the line. There was no way he was ever going to remember, so he was trying to get a good look at them. He would tell them apart by their physical characteristics later, and probably have Al be the one to speak to them directly.

He cleared his throat. "Um, Al?" he asked under his breath. "How exactly is this crew going to help me figuratively kick ass?"

"These guys? No, I wasn't talking about these guys. These guys are uninspiring at best." Al frowned and crossed his arms across his chest as he got to the end of the line, tapping his foot. "Where's Jones?"

The crew looked back and forth at each other, but it looked like none of them wanted to be the one to speak up. Al's face grew progressively more and more red, until eventually he screamed at the top of his lungs, "JONES?"

The boys looked down at the ground with nervous, wide eyes.

A harsh, young brunette woman appeared from below deck. She was wearing a light blue collared shirt that was tucked neatly into her tan pants, and with her sharp cheekbones there was a definite hawkish aura about her. She appeared to be polishing a golden trinket, which she slid into her back pocket along with the rag as she jumped down from the ship.

Her eyebrows raised, and she didn't seem the least bit phased by Al's clear annoyance.

"I thought I said to be at the docks at six." Al wasn't used to not getting his way. Jim wasn't sure if Al was more annoyed at her apparent inability to follow directions, or the fact that his dramatic presentation had been ruined.

A hint of a smile played on her lips, and she shrugged. "I was. You were late." She had the same strange, lilting accent that Amelia had. It didn't do anything to play down her harsh features. In fact, the effect was quite the opposite.

"Yes," Al grunted, smoothing out the front of his shirt with his hands before gripping them tightly behind his back. "Well, Captain, this is Dr. Starla Jones. Her father is Dr. Francis Jones, the galaxy's leading expert on Protean history and technology."

Yes, Jim was aware. He'd heard Delbert complain about Jones on many occasions. He was a laughingstock of the academic community. If _this _was the surprise Al had been so excited about, he might find himself more than a little disappointed.

Against his better judgment, Jim had allowed himself to get his hopes up. Now he just felt nauseous.

"Yes," Jim said with a fake smile, shaking the woman's hand. "Welcome, Miss Jones. Thank you for coming on such short notice."

"Doctor."

"Sorry, what?"

"I have a degree, captain. You addressed me as 'Miss Jones', while my proper title is 'Doctor'." She frowned, and her nose crinkled. "Are you drunk?"

Jim opened his mouth to say something, but Al spoke up first. "I expected a man, actually. Your father, to be precise."

The hawk sent its sharp stare over to Al. "My father is a sick, dying old man. And I would apologize for not being in possession of your preferred genitalia, but I'm afraid that there's nothing I can do about it at such short notice. Therefore, that issue is something you may simply have to deal with." Her gaze returned to Jim, looking him up and down with a curled lip. "My, we've certainly got our work cut out for us, don't we?"

What terrible, witch woman was this? What had Al done? He had to fight against his jaw's urge to drop as he sent the meanest, cruelest, I'm-going-to-kill-you-someday glare in his First Mate's direction.

Jim took a deep breath and let the woman's insults roll off his shoulders. He offered his winningest smile and tried his best not to make it tight-lipped. He even made sure his eyes were crinkled around the corners to look genuine, even if he most certainly was not.

This was the worst day to end all worst days.

"Well, welcome aboard, Doctor. We're very lucky to have you with us."

Jones crossed her arms across her chest and tilted her head, her long hair spilling over her shoulder. "Yes, you are. So, would you like to know where we're headed first?"

Jim's fake smile fell. Who _was _this woman?

"Ligeia," she stated simply.

She was enjoying this. There was no way she wasn't. For once in his life, Jim was speechless. Ligeia was a remote planet, out in the middle of nowhere. It was once a prison where they would place criminals, but it eventually grew too large. The criminals overcame the men posted there to keep them in, and it became a large, lawless safe haven for the lowest bottom feeders in the galaxy. There was no way he or any member of his crew would ever step foot on that planet. They wouldn't survive a day.

He tried to keep his face from contorting into what must have been a look of pure incredulous confusion, but there was no fighting it. He was too drunk and baffled to maintain a proper air of authority against this evil woman. "And why do you want to go there, exactly?"

"We need a pilot. And the rest of the crew could use a little filling out, honestly," she explained. "I don't very much care for yours." She bowed her head slightly out of what would normally be respect, but she didn't respect him. She thought he was a drunken idiot. Unfortunately, he hadn't done very much to prove that she was wrong. "Don't worry, Captain. You should fit right in."

* * *

A/N: Jim needed his life ruined a little more. For character development.


	2. Chapter 2

Jim rarely, if ever, had such difficulty locating his crew members. This wasn't such a problem on his old ship. On his old ship, he had a familiar and reliable crew. The cooks would be in the galley, the engineers below deck, and the captain, reliably, in his office. On this ship, with this crew, that was most certainly not the case.

The ship's steering had been off for hours before anyone noticed because the navigator was in the kitchen playing poker with the cook, and the deck hands were in their bunks doing only god knew what. Even his first mate was nowhere to be found.

The bags weighed heavily beneath his eyes, and he scratched at the stubble on his chin as he made his way below deck to survey the damage. He had finally gotten the opportunity to get some shuteye when his quarters, above the engine room, had started rumbling just enough to knock him out of bed. The lamp had fallen from his nightstand and given him a large red bump on the forehead. It was, perhaps, the only reason he was thankful for the fact that the lights had gone out. His sorry excuse for a crew didn't need any more reason to be any more insubordinate than they already were by nature.

He descended the rusted stairs slowly and carefully, keeping his eye on his feet. The last thing he needed was to fall down flat on his face and be impaled by some wayward machinery.

As for wayward machinery, BEN was sitting in engineering illuminating some steaming part of the ship with one of his lighting components. Jim wasn't sure what it was, since he could just barely make out the shape in the shadows.

Beside him was his first mate, and that doctor he had been trying so hard to avoid, Starla Jones. They were both dripping in sweat, and looked like they must have been down here for a while. They were deep in conversation and hadn't noticed him coming down, despite the loud clunk of his boots on the metal. Jim stopped and cleared his throat.

BEN's head shot over, and his eyes flashed a bright yellow that hurt Jim's eyes. "My buddy Jim!" he shouted. "Boy, do you look tired."

He felt tired, too. He grunted and began taking the final few steps down the stairs, when Al wiped the sweat away from his eyes and started, "Captain, you should—"

Jim waved his comment off. "I'll sleep when I'm dea—"

He stopped, because his entire body was resonating and his head was throbbing. He strained his eyes, and could just make out the overhang that came down in front of his face.

"…watch your head," Al finished. "I was going to say, 'watch your head.'" He pointed to his own bruised forehead with a grimace. "Don't worry, it got me, too. Sneaky bastard."

Jim frowned. "How's the ship?"

"The engine overheated," BEN said, "…again. That's the second time in two weeks. This time it took out our steering."

"She's never going to make it to Ligeia. We're too far out from the nearest fuel station, and it's too dark out here to use the sails." Jim's stomach wound in knots, and he pointed his glare toward the Doctor. "I never should have let you convince me into coming this way," he barked. "If we can't get this piece of shit moving do you know what happens? I have to send out a distress beacon, which will alert every low life on world that we're sitting ducks. We'll get boarded, ransomed, and killed. How's that sound, according to plan?"

Jones leaned back against the wall. She seemed unaffected by his words, and her eyebrows rose. "Well, now that you're here I can tell you what I've been telling them to do for the past hour. What's causing your problems is the secondary gravity drive. Old ships like The Citadel weren't originally built with them, they were all installed after the fact to meet regulatory requirements. It adds unnecessary strain on the computing systems of the ship and causes them to overheat, much like it would cause BEN here to overheat if we were to wire him to a supercomputer. Bypass the secondary gravity drive and we'll make it to Ligeia right as rain."

Al's nose wrinkled. "Sir, I highly advise breaking regulation again. This isn't like last time where you didn't necessarily break any rules. This is Alliance law. You could be arrested. Usually the navy council would have our backs, but given the circumstances, it seems like a bad idea."

"And what do you suppose we do instead?" Jones asked with a huff.

"If we combine the fuel we have in the lifeboats, we should be able to send out one boat to the nearest fuel station. From there, we can send out a distress call no one on Ligeia will be able to pick up."

"_Please _by the time the navy got here the crew remaining on the ship will have gotten picked up by pirates. You're asking him to kill his crew to save his already dismal career."

Al stood to tower over Jones. "The captain was the most gifted student to ever walk the halls of one of the most prestigious academies in the galaxy, and I won't tolerate—"

"What does the secondary gravity drive do?" Jim asked, interrupting his friend's speech. Not that he didn't appreciate it, of course. It was easy to forget that he was anything but a bumbling idiot with Jones around.

He had to admit that he'd never heard of the part. He didn't like that. He liked to know everything about his ships, including how they were built and their capabilities. Perhaps captaining had left him out of touch.

"Normally the gravity drive is connected to the life support of the ship," Jones explained. "If life support goes out, it will cause an automatic shutdown of the artificial gravity. The secondary gravity drive was put in place just in case the primary were to shut down. They're great for newer ships because, as you probably know, the gravity can be a bit glitchy at times regardless of whether the life support has gone out or not. However, in older ships over long journeys, they tend to make the engines to overheat. Most of the time it's best to bypass them, which you would know if you had a proper mechanic. Where we're going we're dead anyway if the life support goes out because no one will be around to help, and tethers should be sufficient as long as they're maintained."

"Oh." He rested his chin on his hand, examining the engine as much as he could in the dim lighting. He could feel his hair sticking to the side of his face with sweat. "BEN, rewire the ship."

"What?!" Al groaned. "Jim, you can't risk your career like this. What am I supposed to put in the log? They'll arrest you if they find out!"

"Then don't put it in the log," Jim hissed through gritted teeth. Al's big mouth had gotten him into trouble more times than he could count. He turned on his heel and followed Jones to the bottom of the stairs. "Hey, Doctor!"

She stopped and turned, careful not to hit her head on the overhang. "Yes, Captain?"

"How did you know about that?" he asked, motioning toward the engine.

"I make a lot of trips out to places that aren't strictly legal, sir. Alliance regulation dictates that researchers aren't permitted on planets not approved by your naval committee."

Jim still wasn't used to being the one on the legal side of things. He wanted so very much to feel sympathetic, but quickly crushed those feelings because he was not only a member of the organization making those rules, but the best friend of the future King of the Interstellar Alliance. Plus, she was an evil hag. When he broke the rules, she criticized him for not acting as admirably and dutifully as he should. When he enforced the rules, he was an idiot subservient to a broken system.

There was no reasoning with people who wanted to hate you, regardless of the reason.

"You don't have very much respect for regulation, do you?"

"I think politics get in the way of proper research. And I think you'll find that known space is actually much larger than you think."

She left him at the foot of the stairs as she made her way up to the deck of the ship. As he ran after her, the lights started flickering on and the entire ship came alive with a light hum.

By the time he got up the stairs, she was already talking with the navigator. Jim couldn't remember his name. Carter, maybe. Or was that one of the engineers? He didn't know. There was at least Carter on board, he knew, for sure.

"The good news is that we're not that far off course," she explained. "By tomorrow night we'll be as close to the planet as this ship should be. I'll take a lifeboat on world, gather the rest of our crew and supplies, and we can head out from there."

Jim crossed his arms across his chest. "See, that's where my plan doesn't match up with your plan."

Her lips turned up in that condescending smile of hers. She stood to her full height and placed her hands on her hips. "And why is that, Captain?"

"I'm not about to let a member of my crew step foot on that planet alone, especially not a woman. It's not safe."

"I've been there multiple times and every time has gone swimmingly. Whoever you choose to send with me will be unnecessary dead weight."

This time, it was Jim's turn to smile. He shrugged. "I'm not changing my mind."

Jones' brow furrowed, like she couldn't believe he would have the audacity to tell her 'no'. He'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it. "I've been waiting for years for this to get this mission approved, and I won't let one of your idiot crew members ruin it by getting us all killed."

"The way I see it, the only reason you're here now is because Al had the common decency to bring you along." He placed a finger lightly on his chin, and pondered for a moment. "You know, it almost makes me wonder why you didn't just recruit your knowledgeable pirate friends in the first place."

Her face returned to its normal, emotionless state. She must have realized that he was enjoying her distress. "I can't publish anything if it's not discovered legally, Captain. I submitted this proposal years ago and they laughed in my face, but now they're trying to steal my father's research as a means of punishing you. Tell me, what would you be doing without me? Wandering all of space aimlessly?"

"Probably, and that's why I'm going with you. Can't have you getting killed, now can I?"

"I have a contact, you'll just scare him—wait, _you_?" she asked, her words absolutely dripping with disdain. "_You're _coming with me?"

"Yes, I am. I just decided." Jim leaned up against the railing. He was exhausted, but he couldn't help the grin that sprung up on his face. This woman had been making his life hell for two straight weeks. She undermined him at every opportunity to the extent where his crew didn't even know who to obey. Just the other day he'd realized they were a few days off course. When he'd confronted the pilot about it, Jim was informed that Dr. Jones had ordered him to take a longer route. Granted, it was to avoid known pirating routes. Granted, she was right. But it was the principle of the matter. They hadn't even consulted him first!

Not anymore. This ship might be a steaming pile of shit, but it was _his _steaming pile of shit.

Her jaw dropped. "That might just be the most moronic thing I've ever heard."

Jim laughed. "Oh, just wait, Doc. I'm not even getting warmed up yet."

* * *

"You know," Al said, clearing his throat, "I really have to agree with Dr. Jones on this one. This may actually be one of the dumbest ideas you've ever had."

Jim had just finished packing away the last of the supplies into the lifeboat. He and Jones would go on world and the ship would maintain a wide orbit around the planet, far enough that no one would spot them if they maintained radio silence and stayed dark. "Relax, it'll be fine."

"No," he muttered. "It won't be fine. You're the captain of an IA naval ship, not a bounty hunter. Plus, if you die _I'm _in charge."

"I mean, if I'm dead I don't really think I'll be here to care if you break the ship."

"But _I _care."

"Fine. I guess I'll just have to try not to die, then, for your sake."

"Thank you," Al said, breathing a sigh of relief. "That's all I'm asking for."

Jim was just about to think up a very witty retort, but found himself distracted by Jones, who had finally emerged from her quarters. She wore dark clothing and a leather jacket that was just fitted enough that he could see the bulge of two guns sitting in holsters around her shoulders. On her belt was a small set of three or four knives of various sizes, and he could see the handle of one tucked neatly into her boot. He had only packed a single knife, and was beginning to feel woefully unprepared.

"I thought you said this was going to go swimmingly?" he choked, his mouth going dry.

She traced his gaze. She was wearing some sort of eyepiece over her right eye that almost made her look like a cyborg. "Second thoughts, Captain?"

"Not a chance." To prove his point, he took his seat in the lifeboat before she had even managed to place her bag inside. "But if we get in trouble you're going to save me, right?"

She didn't say anything, but she rolled her eyes and let out a soft, annoyed hum. Jim shoved off, and once they were far enough from the ship Jones cleared her throat. "Alright, when we arrive on planet we'll have to dock underground. There are a series of tunnels, I'll point you in the right direction. The surface of the planet gets very hot during the day and very cold at night, which makes the surface inhospitable for a large portion of the year. Being underground gives them at least some control over the harsh conditions. If we are separated, under no circumstances should you return to the planet's surface. There's no guarantee they'll let you back into the city and you could very well freeze to death."

Jim wondered for a moment how inhospitable it could have been if they had kept prisoners there for over a century, but he nodded nevertheless. "Stay close. Got it."

"This planet is home to a humanoid species dubbed the 'Sirens', though they all themselves the Anthenei. They were hunted practically to extinction when this planet was utilized as a prison, but after the rebellion the population has started to recover. They're an eight to nine foot tall species. They have white skin, entirely blue eyes, and two rows of razor sharp, shark-like teeth. You'll recognize the males by the blue spines that run down their arms. Do not touch these, they will electrocute you. Do not look them in the eye. It is rare, but they have been known to eat human meat, so do not piss them off."

"Is there anything on this planet that can't kill me?"

Jones sat for a moment to consider the question, and answered after long last, "No."

"Oh, perfect," he said. "Remind me why we're going here again?"

She sighed. "I was on a trip a few years ago. We were so long out that we were losing our minds, and one of the crew members suggested story telling as a way to pass the time. He said he used to do it when he was young and would venture out with his friends. He certainly was one hell of a storyteller. He told us about his friend—a spectacular pilot, absolutely gifted with machines. Give him a scrap heap and he could build you the finest ship you'd ever seen." She'd been staring into space for quite some time, but turned back to meet his gaze. Her hair fell over her shoulder, and she tucked it behind her ear. "Somewhere out there, there's an enormous field of asteroids and space debris, moving at amazing speeds. Spacers call it 'The Wall'. There's no way around it, and it's so dark out there that people have run out of fuel trying. This pilot claims to have crossed it—he damn near killed everyone while doing it, but they passed through. When I asked he said that if I came back with enough money, a ship, and a crew, he'd consider trying again. It's been a few years, but he's not one to break his promises."

Jim's stomach sank. "Have you been to the Wall?"

"No, I've only heard of it. Most people that go out that far don't come back."

He cleared his throat. "Well, um…" he rubbed the back of his neck. "See, Jones, spacers tell stories. They're like fishermen in that sense. There's always going to be some monster out there, or in this case, some uncrossable field. And someone is always going to know that one guy who got through. You're dealing with criminals, they're liars at their core."

Contrary to what he expected her reaction to be, she actually laughed. "Are you suggesting that I'm too stupid to know the difference between the truth and a tall tale?"

There was no way out of this. Jim braced himself. "I think that you must love your father very much, and are willing to do anything to win him some respect back before he dies. I think that's honorable. But I also think that you're stupid to waste a fortune on some spacer's stories, and even stupider to get tied up in my joke of a career."

Her face turned red and her hands balled up in fists. He'd never seen her put off before—it certainly was a sight. She stood up, rocking the boat as she did, and looked like she was torn between wanting to kick him in the face and jump over the edge just to get as far away from him as possible. She opened her mouth, but then shut it and let out a long sigh through her nose. "You have no idea what you're talking about, Captain."

She turned on her heel and sat down at the very front of the boat, as far away from him as physically possible. He could just barely see her profile, but could make out the frown on her face. She didn't look angry anymore, she looked sad. He should drink up this moment as much as possible, but instead he just felt a knot form in his stomach. This wasn't how he had imagined getting payback—by dashing her dreams, and all of his hopes along with them.

Plus, the chances that he would be wandering space for the rest of eternity just increased about tenfold. He wondered what stories the old spacers would have to say about _that_.

He looked back at her, only to find that she looked just as she normally did: a little like there was a foul smell just under her nose, but calm. Bored, even. They approached the planet and the ship began to shake as they descended with a deafening roar. Landings were probably the worst part of flying, he thought. No matter how many landings you've done in your life, they never failed to turn your stomach just a little. Even Jones, with all of her self-control, was gripping the edge of her seat with white knuckles and a green tinge to her.

The surface of the planet was largely bare, with a few small villages peppered across the bright orange sand. He imagined that these were probably homes of the natives, who had evolved to withstand the planet's harsh conditions, or crazy humans who had either been kicked out of the city or preferred to live alone. He wasn't sure which theory he found more comforting.

"There," Jones said, pointing toward a large crater off in the distance. "There are a series of caves off along the wall of the crater. We should be able to tie the ship up there, and the tunnels will lead us underground."

The sun was just beginning to set, so it was still very hot, but tolerable. It wouldn't last long. The mountains in the distance cast long, black shadows along the sand that stood in contrast to their otherwise colorful surroundings. The sky was the same bright orange of the sand, marbled with colors ranging from yellow to a dark maroon. On the surface, Ligeia was a beautiful planet. If only shown photos, one might never know how inhospitable it was, or what dangers lurked below the surface.

Jim followed her directions, and they entered a cave that contained many smaller ships just like theirs. He frowned. If they weren't stopping here because it would be a good hiding place, what were they doing? It would get stolen in only a matter of minutes.

Jones grabbed her bag and jumped out of the ship. She made her way down into the darkness of the cave, disappearing from sight entirely. He quickly tied up the ship with the best knot he could while still straining his eyes to see her in the shadows, then chased after her, following the echoes of her footsteps. The gravity on this planet was considerably less than what he was used to. It was disorienting. As he descended into the cave, more and more water condensation built up on its interior. A stream rushed nearby. He couldn't hear her footprints anymore over the rush of the water, and his heart beat in his chest as he lost himself in his thoughts for a moment. What would happen if someone were to sneak up on him? What if this was all a trap? What if he fell into the water and was swept away? One wrong step and he could fall, he couldn't see where it was in the least.

Suddenly, a light clicked on. It was Jones' eyepiece. She was only a few feet away from him. The light highlighted the contours of her face, and when she turned her gaze toward him it blinded him.

Still, he let out a sigh of relief.

Her eyes scrunched up at the corners and her eyebrows raised as she looked at him in bewilderment. "Are you afraid already, Captain?"

He wasn't sure if she was asking because she genuinely cared, or because she wanted to make sure that it sunk in that he was at her mercy and pissing her off was probably not the best decision. He waved her question off with a laugh. "Me? Scared?" he cleared his throat. "I've never been scared a day in my life."

She rolled her eyes and continued to walk down the slope of the cave. "If that's the case then you must be incredibly stupid."

_There she goes_. He was wondering how long it would take for her to comment on his unintelligence. It had been a few hours, and it was far overdue. "Or incredibly brave," he pointed out.

"I don't think there's really all that much of a difference between the two."

Jim followed closely behind her, making a face at the back of her head, sticking out his tongue. "Well," he said, mimicking her haughty tone, "_I_ think that sounds like something only a coward would say."

As much as he disliked her, he couldn't help but admire the way the dim lighting accented the contour of the small of her back. She was evil, but attractive. He liked attractive women. In another world, if you were to change everything about her but her appearance, she might have ended up another M that got him in so much trouble in the first place.

His nose wrinkled at the thought. The only reason he had elected to come on this trip was for the sole purpose that it would cause her far more pain than it would cause him, which was actually quite a lot. He wondered how long the stick stuck up her ass must be to make her so incredibly unpleasant.

"So, Doc," he asked, "what's that eyepiece you have actually do?"

"It allows me to see everything that happens behind me, _Captain_," she said shortly.

Blood flooded to his face and Jim coughed, choking on his own spit because he forgot how to swallow in his episode of momentary horror. "Oh, um," he stammered, "what did you say you got your doctorate in?"

"Archaeology."

"So you like old stuff? Like, bowls? Do you like bowls? We once found this bowl on this one planet that was about two feet wide, made of solid gold. You'd never guess what they used it as."

"You don't have to try to make small talk with me, Captain. In fact, I would prefer that you didn't."

She sped up her pace, leaving him to follow her along the rest of the tunnel like a yappy dog. They came to the end, where he was greeted by a seven-foot tall creature with multiple rows of sharp, smiling teeth. He swallowed back a scream, biting his knuckle tightly between his teeth.

Jones cast him another look of disgust before turning back toward the creature sitting in front of a large metal door. Then, in a sight he never expected to see, she actually _smiled_. It looked so foreign on her face and so alien that for a moment he forgot that he was, in fact, standing in front of a real, actual alien that ate human flesh for breakfast.

"You've grown! How tall are you now, seven feet?"

The blue spines along the alien's arms lit up with an electric blue glow. "Seven _four_," he corrected. The way his voice resonated in his mouth was strange, making the sound come out in multiple pitches. When he spoke, it sounded like he was speaking with multiple voices all at once. Their mouths were clearly not meant for human language, and he spoke with a thick accent that almost made it sound like he was singing.

So, that must be why they were called Sirens.

The boy had large eyes, which Jim could see had two pairs of eyelids in this lighting. One pair was like a human's, but the other was just a thin film that moved side-to-side and swept back and forth over his eye. His hair, as stark white as his skin, was long and coarse.

"At this rate you'll be taller than your father soon," Jones said. She placed a small sack of what sounded like coins in the boy's hands, which were gloved. "Be a dear and keep the ship safe while I'm gone, will you? It's the last one on the left. I'm afraid I won't be here for long enough for a visit, but I was able to find that thing your mother wanted on my last journey and I plan to get it to her as soon as I get back. Alright?"

The boy nodded eagerly. "Yes m'am," he said, not even looking up because and had already begun to dig through the coin purse. His eyes shot up, and he blinked for the first time. "But this is too much."

Jones frowned. "You didn't think I would forget about your birthday, did you? It's coming up."

The glow ran up and down the boy's arms again and he looked down with pursed lips, clearly trying to suppress a wide grin. "Thank you." He pulled aside the massive metal door to reveal the city within. There was a burst of wind that came out, and with it a heavy stench. Jim's stomach turned.

"I'll see you soon," Jones assured.

She led him through the doors, where they entered in on a massive platform that overlooked the entire city. There were other entrances like theirs spaced out periodically around the perimeter. The city was far below them, and he could see the tops of buildings and little specks that must be people rushing around the street. At the top of the cave were massive light sources that were dimmed, probably to simulate the setting of the sun on the surface above.

They stepped onto an elevator platform and Jones shut the door in front of them. Jim cleared his throat. "When you said that they were dangerous, I didn't think that you would be friends with them."

She refused to look at him, her eyes scanning over the buildings that were steadily growing larger as the elevator went down. "I've found in my travels that even the most hostile of species can be befriended if you simply treat them like people. It's a novel concept, I know, and one someone in your position couldn't possibly comprehend."

Jim coughed. "Someone in _my _position?" In all his life, he'd never once had someone accuse him of prejudice because of his social standing. The concept would have made him laugh if it wasn't so insulting. He'd been the token poor kid in the academy throughout his stay. He'd spent his entire career being told that he was doing remarkably well 'considering the circumstances', despite the fact that _he _was the one at the top of the class. And this was coming from the daughter of one of the richest academics in history. Starla's father's successes had by now been dwarfed by his insane obsession with Proteus, but once upon a time he was one of the foremost researchers in ancient technology. He'd discovered in the ruins of a dead society detailed plans on how to create the engines they used in their ships today. After translating the documents, he'd handed them in to the Navy and they'd rewarded him handsomely. They had a building at the academy named after him—Jones Hall. They taught everything from piloting to engineering there, geared for everyone on track to become a captain. He'd spent a lot of time in that stupid building, which they were considering renaming to escape the shame of having an academic building named after one of academia's greatest laughingstocks. "And what's that supposed to mean, Doctor?"

"I've read your file. You're insubordinate. You have problems with authority. You have little to no respect for your title and your best friend is set to become the king of the entire galaxy as we know it very soon. Whenever people like this are marginalized, it's usually people like _you _who make it so without knowing or acknowledging it."

Jim frowned. "And I think you're a hypocrite. You have more money in your pocket than I'll ever see, but you waste it all traveling to the ends of the earth in search of your father's pride. It's is long gone, by the way. You could be helping these people. You're in a far better position to do it than I am."

Jones' back straightened and she maintained her stare out over the city, clearly making a point not to meet his gaze. Because he was right. Her lips were pursed and she let out a long, slow exhale as their elevator came to a screeching halt.

The stone ground was covered in a wet film of something that he hoped was just dampness from the cave, but he'd never know for sure and he preferred to just not think about it. The sounds of the city were nearly deafening, even as the sun was setting. Children ran around wild and hordes of people rushed from one place to the next. The buildings were all run down and looked like they had seen better days, which was probably due to the damp atmosphere. When he looked at the walls of the cave closer, he could see the water that ran down them into the streams that flowed around the perimeter of the city. Down here, the stench got stronger and he had to close his eyes for a moment to keep his eyes from watering. He took a few deep breaths to acclimate himself to the smell, and it eventually subsided to the point where he could pretend he didn't notice it. Self-deception at its finest.

Jones started down the street without hesitation, not bothering to look back to make sure that he was keeping up. He had to push people aside in order to keep up with her as she bobbed and weaved throughout the crowd. He would take a glance around to get a bearing on his surroundings once in a while, only to have to hunt for the back of her head among all the other people. They were just passing under a wooden sign for a pub when he accidentally gave the rather plump older gentleman beside him a sharp shove.

"Ey!" The man exclaimed, his lips curling up in a snarl that exposed his brown, discolored teeth. He pulled his coat aside and placed his hand on his belt, which Jim could now see contained a blaster. "Watch where you're going, you dumb cunt."

Jim glanced back to where he'd last seen Jones' head, which was now long gone. His heart sank, and he raised his hands. "Yes, um, sir. I'm very sorry, I am."

"Who are you calling _sir_?" The man cackled and wheezed, but never removed his hand from his holster. "You're a proper little fellow you are, aren't you?"

What was that supposed to even mean? Jim frowned and tried to back away to disappear into the crowed. It didn't work. With astonishing speed, the man lunged forward and grabbed him by his hair, pulling him up into the air with such force that Jim was surprised he didn't yank out a fist-full's worth.

Jim reached up and tried to pry the man's grip loose, but it was no use. He was as strong as a bear. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he tried to stand as high on his toes as he could.

The man chuckled again to himself, and by now a large crowd had gathered. He stuck the plump, dirty thumb of his free hand into Jim's mouth and pried his lips apart. He turned to one of the women behind him and mused, "Pretty little pearly whites, aren't they, Dolores? How much do you think I could get for a set like that?"

The woman also laughed. "I'd say about a thousand credits."

"Only a thousand? I bet I could get at least two."

Out of nowhere, a small hand reached up and snatched the corner of the burly man's ear and tugged sharply on the cartilage until he was forced to contort his head in the most uncomfortable-looking of positions. The finger in Jim's mouth disappeared, and instead it swatted at the hand holding him captive.

"Drop him, Eugene," Jones' barked into the man's ear, "or I'll lop your sodding arm off."

Jim was immediately dropped to the ground, much to his relief. He rubbed his sore scalp and watched as Jones released the large man, who raised his arms in surrender. "My apologies, Doctor. I didn't realize this idiot was with you."

Jones rolled her eyes. "Go home, Eugene." Her head turned in Jim's direction as she grabbed at the back of his shirt and shoved him in front of her as she walked. "Come on, Hawkins. For god's sake, you can't possibly be this pathetic."

Jim grumbled and rubbed at his scalp, following her directions as she pointed for him to take a sharp left. "I'm not pathetic, you're just terrible at teamwork. You know, you do actually have to make an attempt to keep me alive. So far you're not doing a very good job of it."

"I told you I work alone," she huffed, "and you insisted on coming anyway."

Without warning, Jones shoved him down a small flight of stairs into a building. His feet couldn't keep up with his descent and his stomach made its way into his throat as he braced himself for his fall onto an unforgiving concrete floor. His hands and knees took most of the damage, but his heart was beating wildly in his chest.

"Well I'll be damned, it's Starla Jones" a man bellowed from across the room. He paused, and his voice grew quieter. "And, who is this you've brought with you?"

Jim had been busy wiping the blood off of the scrapes on his palms, but when he heard the man's voice he froze. He knew that voice. He'd heard it once before, a very long time ago. His head shot up, and his jaw dropped to the floor. "J-John Silver," he said breathlessly, rubbing at the back of his neck, "you old scallywag."

* * *

A/N: I was browsing the internet recently and saw that Proteus had already been mentioned in cannon. I didn't actually didn't know that, so if that led to any confusion I apologize.

Also, don't worry: Jim won't be sulky forever. :)


End file.
